Alice
by quitelame
Summary: When Mikan was younger, and her dad's heart still beat, he used to rant about things like duty. Duty and courage and mercy. He used to tell her that, with those things, you can't go wrong in life. Even as an Alice. Oh, but can't you? And what even is wrong, anyway? When you're a living weapon with no will, no morals?
1. I

_Disclaimer: I do not own the manga/anime Gakuen Alice. Manga are a form of Japanese comics, and my story, "Alice," is a fanfiction piece inspired by the manga. All credit goes to the mangaka, the genius of a woman, Higuchi Tachibana, for the characters and setting. The plot, however, is my own invention._

**Alice**

I.

The air was sweet and warm like maple syrup, but so thick that after inhaling she felt as if she'd swallowed a cup of dishwasher soap. Mikan closed the window.

A cloud of her hot breath hid the oak tree in front of their little house, and she wiped away the condensation with her sleeve. She sighed as she examined the cracks in the glass that were taped over with shiny, clear duct tape. She knew why her mother didn't bother to get the glass replaced. Damaging village property was a crime, and it was impossible to find a repairman brave enough to keep his mouth shut.

It was five whole years ago when Tsubasa's bad pitch had ruined the window and promptly ended their baseball game in the backyard. Mikan had been ten, and Tsubasa twelve. He had apologized profusely and looked anticipant of his punishment as intrusive, eager tears ran down his cheeks. Mikan's mother had merely patted him on the shoulder and told him to be careful. Mikan had been happy to realize that she wasn't angry at him either.

Now she drew the curtains closed and shook her head in an attempt to order her thoughts. Today was the day that she was heading to Alice Academy, the day that had been etched into the timeline of her life since before she was born. As an Alice, she, too, was going to be sorted into a category and shipped off to do her part in society, leaving so much behind—her mother, her past.

The thought made her sad, but also kind of giddy.

She crossed over the length of her small, plain room and stood at the entryway, surveying it whole. It was dull for sure—dreadfully dull, but it was home. Inside the closet was a snug, tiny storage room. When the Invigilo officials would pay surprise visits, she would hide there. She didn't want to answer their stupid questions.

"_What do you like to do in your free time?"  
"How do you feel about your fellow Alices? The Invigilo?"  
"What would you do if your Mother could no longer...service your community?"_

Mikan knew all her answers by heart now. _Sing... I love them... I'd take her place._

It was expected. Villagers like Mikan were made powerless, enslaved by their inherent powers—enslaved by their Alice blood. They did not own their alices. The Invigilo did, and they could do whatever they wanted with them.

Mikan had known about her alices since she was five. The first to develop was her Nullification alice-the one she didn't mind so much. Because of it, Mikan was constantly canceling out alices within a certain distance from her—not deflecting or absorbing, just nullifying. Alices fizzled out around her; it was kind of like trying to light a match in the eye of a hurricane, or losing your voice just as you tried to scream. Frustrating. But for her, it was like breathing, blinking, or using her right hand. She had to think to stop. And she liked feeling untouchable. She liked that she wouldn't have to fight her own kind.

But Mikan was blessed with more than her father's Nullification. She was a Multialice. She had two alices instead of one; Nullification and what the Invigilo called SCI. But it wasn't much of a blessing to Mikan. A thief. Mikan's SCI alice made her into a thief, not a hero. So she hated it.

Mikan fell away from her deliberation with two quick blinks and noticed that she'd been fiddling with the splinters on the old, wooden door frame. As Mikan moved to unlock her door, somewhere in the distance sirens went off. The familiar, blaring wails snapped Mikan out of her idle thinking. There would be another "Gathering" soon—a sort of assembly held by the Invigilo. The Gathering was for "Eligibles," people who had turned fourteen in the last year. Gatherings, Eligibles—Mikan could not figure out for the life of her why the Invigilo were so pretentious.

She made a beeline to her closet, glancing at the clock on the wall and starting a mental timer. She pushed through the superficial clothes that her grandfather insisted on giving her for every single one of her birthdays, and pulled her usual training clothes off their hangers and onto her body. All black. Then, humming to herself, she stuffed her feet into black combat boots.

As she headed to her dresser, she tripped over a small pouch, and stooped down to inspect it. It was cute, with all its white sparkly polka dots, and it reminded her of the pink, spotted dress she had gotten for her ninth birthday. But she didn't remember owning a pouch like this. It looked like a harmless makeup bag at first glance, but Mikan opened it while holding her breath, careful not to inhale the contents. Just last summer, a boy with the Wind alice had died after opening a package that he found on his front doorstep. Bioterrorism. Hayate Matsudaira. She remembered him from kindergarten—the kid who had too much gel in his hair on picture day. She didn't want to be like him.

Mikan didn't want to die a pointless death.

Come to think of it, she thought this was one of her mother's makeup bags. She couldn't suppress a smile as she thought of how her mother got so excited for the little village parties they had that sometimes lasted until early morning. Yuka would spend hours in her room, prepping herself, and she always came out looking absolutely stunning. She had called it "the magic of makeup," and Mikan would sometimes watch her apply it, awestruck by the sorcery. But they hadn't been to one of those parties in years. Mikan wasn't even sure if the village still had them. She shivered, thinking about what replaced the hearty sound of guitars and people clapping a beat, what she now sometimes heard in the dead of night. But she didn't hate her mother; it occurred to Mikan that Yuka was selling her body to keep the both of them provided for. It just disgusted her that her mother had to sink so _low_ to keep them above water. She wasn't like the moms in the books. She was no longer the same mom in the family photo albums. But Mikan loved her anyway, because she was all there was now.

The Anti-Alice Organization had murdered Mikan's dad.

She didn't know who they were, or what her father had done to warrant the death penalty, and all Mikan could do was hate. Hate bubbled within her like magma that refused to cool. She clenched her teeth and counted the bag's sparkly polkadots.

Mikan peeked inside the bag and noticed that the smaller compartments carried weapons and gadgets and whatever else Hotaru could snag—a small handgun from the Southern Village, two daggers, an earpiece, its accompanying microphone and various other goodies. Grateful warmth filled Mikan's belly. Hotaru, and only Hotaru, could get her hands on stuff like this.

Mikan went on to open the main pocket of the pouch. A photo of her parents and her was tucked inside. Mikan's mouth opened slightly. The picture had been confiscated and was supposed to have been destroyed after her father died, but it was no surprise that Hotaru had somehow salvaged it. Mikan made a mental note to thank her later.

She was wasting time staring at the picture, so she closed the pouch and tucked it under her armpit. At the last second before she left her room, she realized that her hair was still down, and she quickly scanned her room in search of a scrunchie. She spotted one on her wooden nightstand, leapt for it, and ran out towards the front door, tying her unruly, brown waves into a high ponytail.

She felt an eerie slowness as she ran. Some syrupy mass flooded her senses, her heartbeat, her breath. She could barely identify the objects she passed: an old, dingy, green couch stationed up against the wall, an equally old television, a mahogany coffee table, a few wooden chairs, some antique paintings and family portraits, her mother. Her mother yelped as Mikan passed her, but Mikan didn't stop running.

"Mikan?" Yuka squeaked, and Mikan found herself braking.

She looked at her mother with steely eyes. Yuka's nightgown was rumpled, and her hair that was so similar to Mikan's fell to her waist in brown tangled webs. Mikan remembered when it used to barely reach her shoulders, but she guessed long hair was more appealing to Yuka's customers.

Yuka's eyes were the green of aged moss, glistening, distant-the way they got when she drank. Mikan's eyes grew hard; she couldn't bring herself to scold her. Too tired.

Mikan opened her mouth to speak and noticed how dry her throat was. She swallowed hard.

"Bye, Mom. Take care of yourself!" she hollered with an artificial smile. She pushed herself out the door and slammed it shut behind her, inhaling deeply. The air, she noticed, was less thick now.

"Mikan!" her mother shrieked from inside.

Before she could change her mind, Mikan took off, her feet pounding at the mud trail that led to the clearings. Her future had been laid out for her since she was born, like a hand of cards at the start of a game. There was no fighting it.

Mikan followed the trail deeper into the forest, running as fast as she could manage.

This was for Mom, she told herself. This was for Grandpa. This was for _Dad. _Yet Mikan was breathing much harder than she would during any other run.

She wasn't entirely sure where she was or whether she was making good time, but it was definitely better safe than sorry. Stragglers were punished at the whim of miserable, senselessly violent teenage Alices. Mikan couldn't imagine exactly why they were _so _messed up.

She slowed down when she started to recognize her surroundings. She was searching for a specific tree, the only tree with a knothole in the whole forest. She found it a little way to her right, and approached it in a crouch. Reaching into the knothole, she glanced around using the very corners of her eyes, making sure she was alone. Although she didn't particularly care.

After today, this wouldn't be her special hiding place anymore. She'd be hundreds of thousands of miles away.

As she swung a knapsack over her shoulder, all the hairs on her body stood up. Someone had followed her. She kept still, heightening her senses and trying to pinpoint her stalker's location.

An invisible but very loud…thing made its way toward Mikan at an alarming speed. Just as Mikan flung herself out of its range, she was slammed down onto the unforgiving forest floor, though the attack had only grazed her. Leaves and dirt and even rocks that had been swept up from their positions on the ground now rained all about her. She couldn't see herself being alive and well if it—whatever that was—had hit her full-on. Immediately she pushed herself up into a fighting stance and tried not to wince. She looked up at her opponent piercingly, ready to retaliate.

But when she locked eyes with her offender, she froze.

The pale girl facing Mikan looked at her with stony, somber amethyst eyes, and her trusty pistols were secured to her hips. One holster strap was undone however, and Mikan assumed she had used the gun in that one to shoot. She mentally thanked her best friend for using air blasts instead of bullets.

"Nice seeing you too, Hotaru," Mikan greeted her, looking her over from the toes of her black leather boots to the top of her raven-haired head. Her face brightened. Because of training, she hadn't seen her best friend in weeks. She quickly leapt up and latched onto Hotaru with a grip like death.

"You were wide open, idiot. Practically inviting me," Hotaru stated before pulling a tiny gun from inside her boot and shooting Mikan back down to the ground.

Mikan sat up after taking an air blast to the face, dusting herself off quite aggressively and checking if anything had fallen out of her knapsack.

"That _hurt_,Hotaru," she whined as she stood up.

"It was supposed to."

"Thought so." Mikan exhaled audibly. "Thanks for the stuff, by the way. How'd you even manage—"

"That's classified to idiots like you."

Mikan smiled, unoffended, and nodded in the direction of the clearings. "Shall we?"

Hotaru nodded her affirmative, helped Mikan to her feet, and began sprinting, nimbly navigating through the foliage. Mikan followed closely after tucking her new daggers into her boots.

In the fields, Hotaru and Mikan were only two of _a lot. _There were about a hundred Alices out there.

"Quit ogling. They'll think you're brain dead," Hotaru commented offhandedly, scrutinizing their future peers.

"Oh? I thought I _was_ an idiot," Mikan replied smoothly, following Hotaru's gaze and resting her eyes on a tall male sporting a mischievous smirk.

Hotaru didn't miss a beat. "You are," she stated as she made eye contact with Mikan. "But we don't want them to know that."

Mikan nodded, looking down at her best friend's feet. Hotaru was right, of course. Show no weakness.

Mikan tapped Hotaru's shoulder as a heads-up and made her way to the handsome guy she'd spotted.

"Hold on, let me check something out," she called to Hotaru.

His profile became clearer as she neared him, and she sped up her pace. He was leaning on a speaker-box, near the stage. She had to marvel at the stage for a moment. It looked so odd, a steel and spotless alien amongst the greenery. It had to be more than twenty yards wide, decked with microphones and podiums. The Academy knew how to intimidate.

She shifted her attention back to the guy. It _was _him!

"Tsubasa!" his name tumbled out from her mouth at a volume almost too low for even her to hear. She couldn't believe he was here. Why _was_ he here? Tsubasa had been an Eligible two years ago, yet with eyes reminiscent of a cornflower or a summer twilight, and hair so black it was almost blue, Tsubasa Andou stood only a few feet from her. She called his name as she ran up and leapt onto him.

He stiffened at the sudden contact, but as he recognized her face he pulled her into a warm embrace, almost crushing her.

"Mikan! Mikan, Mikan!" He held her up over his head and twirled her around the way he would to a little kid, despite her shrieks of protest. "My little junior! Mikan!" He twirled her a bit more before he suddenly froze and set her down. He stared at her, analyzing every detail of her face. "Could this be some kind of sick joke?" He pinched her cheeks. "Well, these are her baby-fatty cheeks." He inspected her hair. "And that's her wild mane, despite her efforts to tame it." She glared at him. He shrugged, and his eyes raked her over. "And that is definitely her flat-as-a-board chest and virtually featureless body. You're Mikan alright."

She whacked his head and elbowed him in his gut. He doubled over, and she smiled to herself, even though he was letting her hit him on purpose.

"I _hate _you," she finished with a flourish.

A comforting hand landed on her shoulder. She turned to see that it was Hotaru's.

"Don't mind him, Mikan," she started. "Some people just don't know when the truth should be said and when it shouldn't."

Mikan nodded her head in agreement, before realizing the meaning behind Hotaru's words.

"The _truth?_" she screeched, spinning around. Hotaru was smirking and Tsubasa was still doubled over, laughing hard. Mikan huffed, glaring at the grass beneath her.

Hotaru turned to Tsubasa and regarded him with a nod. He grinned in return.

"So you both made it, hm? I knew you would. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you two got…" he trailed off.

Hotaru tensed and Mikan shivered. They both knew he meant "if you'd gotten Disposed." No one knew what happened to Alices who "disappoint, displease or disobey" the Invigilo, but they were very rarely ever seen again, and those who returned to their villages had a silence about them. Mikan had a theory that their voices had actually been taken from them—as in their vocal cords had been extracted from their bodies. It didn't seem that far-fetched.

Mikan hadn't thought about it much, but it was generally believed that Disposal meant death. She didn't blame Tsubasa for considering it, for being scared. They were all scared. And fear was necessary—how else could Alices be kept from wreaking havoc? Alices were too powerful to let roam freely, and instilling order was the Invigilo's duty. Alices had _better_ be scared. Scared of authority, scared of themselves.

"Sorry, sorry! Wow. I'm such a buzzkill," Tsubasa amended. "How've you two been? Still best friends I see."

Mikan swung an arm around Hotaru's shoulder. "Of course! She can't get enough of me," she said with a wink.

Hotaru threw Mikan's arm off of her and turned her attention to the stage just as the speakers came on.

"_Good morning, my children!"_

A stubby and chubby little man walked out to center stage, followed by a string of Invigilo officials. Mikan recognized them all from flyers she had passed or brief glances at the living room TV screen, but she had no idea what their respective names were, nor did she care. The little man had an…interesting face, not particularly young or old, impossible to tell his age. He walked stiffly, like someone who had a pole for a spine. His shoulders were pulled back, and under incredibly arched, thick eyebrows, his eyes were sharp and condescending. _All _his features were sharp and condescending, up to his high cheekbones, his aristocratic nose and a jaw line that could chisel through marble. He ran his fingers through his slicked-back hair as he adjusted his microphone to better accommodate his lack of height. Mikan choked back a laugh. He looked around at the faces of his colleagues before facing forward. Mechanically, the crowd uttered a greeting back. He looked pleased. Mikan looked down, opting to only listen from the speakers.

"_Today, September 14th, is yet another of our annual Gatherings. Today is the day that we send our Eligibles off, with the best of training and luck, for the 19th time. Today is the day that we push further towards our goal, towards our future! Today you are reborn!"_

His overly sweet and excited voice made Mikan feel itchy all over. Was it necessary to speak to them like they were five? A buzz swept over the crowd, and she realized that everyone was clapping. But Mikan wasn't moved. She didn't feel reborn. She didn't see their "goal" anywhere up ahead. She didn't know what she was striving for, what she was supposed to be striving for. She only felt a festering anger towards the deluded midget in front of her with a microphone. She wondered if she was the only one bothered, but a quick glance at Hotaru, whose teeth were clenched, put her at ease. She grabbed Hotaru's hand and squeezed softly before letting go just as quietly.

"_My children, have strength! Nolite—"_

"—timere, o fortissimo." Mikan finished with him. "_Do not fear, my warriors_." He was smiling, and she swore that each of his teeth looked like a sharpened blade. She immediately concluded that she wouldn't miss the phrase at all.

"_My warriors, you will prosper. You will persevere; you will honor us. There is nothing ahead of us but success! I am immensely pleased with the results of the training installments, and even happier that I've been blessed enough to see you off. Now, you'll be escorted to the labs and receive your respective fields. And in whatever you do, do well."_

There were about ten other people in the waiting room, excluding Hotaru and Mikan. This was the second waiting room they'd been in; the first was more of an auditorium, and all of the Eligibles had filed into it after they were dismissed from the Gathering. A tall, blonde woman had led them into the smaller rooms about every thirty minutes, and in small groups. With every group's departure, Mikan had felt the knots in her gut contort themselves more complexly—maybe into Constrictor knots or even Eldredge knots—until finally her name was called, among the eleven others in her group. Mikan couldn't be happier that Hotaru was with her.

"Sakura?"

Mikan jerked slightly as she heard her surname and immediately straightened.

"Y-Yes, that's me," she answered a tall man, cursing herself for stuttering. Ten other pairs of eyes stared straight at her. She scrutinized the brown-haired, lanky man. He looked to be maybe in his early-thirties and had an expression of pure boredom etched onto his face. Hotaru placed her hand gently on the small of Mikan's back and let it rest there for a beat before pushing her towards the man.

"Come with me," he said.

He led her into a dark, narrow hallway that had small rectangular windows lining the tops of the each wall. Bright, white light shone through them, giving the top third of the hallway an eerie glow, but somehow the rest of the hallway remained dark. It was so quiet that she became painfully aware of her footsteps, and his, and her breathing, and his.

"Are you nervous?" His sudden speech made her squeak.

"N-No. I'm fine, thank you," she lied weakly. He chuckled to himself, scratching his head, and then nodded as if to say _Sure, okay._

Before she knew it he was waving her into a stark white room. Everything was white—the walls, the large apparatus hanging on one of the walls, the color of her skin reflected in a small mirror resting on the white side table. At his request, she lay down on something akin to a hospital bed. She tried not to move as a cold-fingered woman placed sticky, suction-cup looking things all over her body. She was looking at the white ceiling, but suddenly the ceiling was black, and then everything was black. Vaguely she thought she heard a scream before her mind went black.


	2. II

Thank you **Midnight-angel1022** and **Aquaz dewdrops** for the sweet reviews!

**Alice**

II.

He didn't want to look. He was swamped by the scent of burning flesh, and he could feel the crisp, flitty ashes raining about him, and he had heard the screams of a child along with all the others, and he didn't want to look. He was a murderer. He'd been one for a year now. He was done with the denial—the "this is against my will" business. In order to slay beasts, you had to be willing to lose your humanity. And he was. But Natsume still did not want to look at what he'd done.

He caged a couple of ashes in his hand and squeezed. He was surprised by the soft texture, but it was short-lived because soon he was left with unsatisfying soot.

The sensitive hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Bracing a hand on the ground, he stood from his position on the lowest branch of an oak tree in front of the two-family house he'd just burned down.

Natsume opened his eyes and immediately saw red.

He whirled around smoothly, his lithe legs hurdling him a few meters back, away from the rustle of fabric he'd heard and the dark figure that had leapt into view. Without jerking out of his ready position, Natsume straightened his legs and shoulders slightly and peered stoically at the man before him.

"Need something?" Natsume asked blandly, hands clenched at the ready. The man, wearing a hundred too many pieces of jewelry, frowned at his top agent's rude tone.

"Now that's not the tone you use with a teacher, is it, Black Cat?" the man drawled, taking a step toward Natsume.

Natsume didn't budge but kept his gaze directed at the man. "I've never spoken to you in any other way, and I don't see why I should bother starting, Persona." Natsume paused and, eyes aflame, he almost whispered, "Don't come near me."

Persona stopped in his tracks and seemed to roll his eyes behind the white porcelain mask that covered his face from his forehead to his thin mouth.

In a dismissive voice, he leered, "You will obey me, Natsume. You don't have any other choice."

Natsume straightened immediately. The smooth planes of his face were hard. He stared intensely at a point just past Persona's shoulder.

"You can't do anything to make me do otherwise." He seemed to be talking more to himself than to Persona. "I'll get my sister back. I'll get her back myself."

Persona chuckled humorlessly and caught a drifting, rust-colored leaf in the palm of his hand. Natsume watched Persona's movements carefully. He watched the slow way Persona curled his fingers around the leaf, and then he watched, enraptured, as the leaf crumpled into black dust. Burnt not by a flame. Rotted not by a lack of sustenance.

"You'd do well to listen, Kitty," Persona drawled venomously. "Your sister...well, she's so easily harmed isn't she? So fragile. Pity I've never been very good at controlling my alice." Natsume gritted his teeth but didn't resist when his chin was grabbed and yanked to an inch away from Persona's face. "No matter what, you'll be here. Working for the Academy. Killing for us. Hell, you'll even die for don't have a future other than this. Get it in your head." Natsume didn't bother to retort.

Instead, looking into his trainer's eyes, he waited patiently for the older man to finish. Then, Natsume could go home to the Academy and curl up to some nightmares.

"You have another mission, Black Cat," Persona muttered offhandedly, stepping back and dissolving yet another leaf into thin air. His beady black eyes settled on Natsume's form, and a smirk flitted across Persona's lips. "The gates, at eleven tomorrow night."

"Whatever," Natsume murmured, walking away. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he ducked his head and leapt up into the trees. The calluses on his hands made the rough bark silky, and in his anger he was blind to the leaves and twigs slicing at his skin as he bounded from branch to branch. He was all lean muscle and nerves of lightning. The only thing he thought of now was the calling of his bed and the manga on his bedside table.

She was being soothed. Someone's feather-like voice was tickling her ears, lulling her but also dragging her out of her sleepy stupor with its curiousness. Mikan opened her eyes.

Hotaru sensed movement and glanced at Mikan as she promptly ended her conversation with a redheaded nurse. Mikan recognized the nurse as the woman who had placed the suction-cup things on her body.

"You've finally decided to grace us with your consciousness," Hotaru quipped.

"You have a nice voice," Mikan replied.

Hotaru turned back to the nurse. "When exactly will the drugs wear off?"

"They should be out of her system in an hour or two," the redhead replied kindly.

Hotaru massaged her temples. "I'll have to deal with twice my daily dose of idiot today, then. Lovely."

Mikan blinked. "Drugs?"

"You passed out during the Alice test. Then you suddenly woke up in the middle of it, kicking and screaming. They had to sedate you," Hotaru informed Mikan airily, not bothering to make eye contact with her.

"Alice test?" Mikan reiterated.

"Alice test."

Knowing Hotaru was in a pissy mood, Mikan turned her attention to the nurse.

"What's the Alice test?"

The nurse's eyes lit up like a puppy when its master says its name.

"It's really cool!" she exclaimed. "You get other alices put into your body to see how your alice responds to them—like if you had the Water alice, and we sent the Fire alice into you, you'd probably have, um, a seizure...but then we'd know you had the Water alice, you know?"

Mikan swallowed. "Yeah...but the Invigilo already know what alices we have...it's on file."

The nurse looked at Mikan incredulously. "It's just double checking, you get it?"

Mikan gave up, though she didn't really get it. It was pretty hard to hide your alice in alice-training. And who would lie to the Invigilo if they wanted to live their full life expectancy? She turned back to Hotaru.

"So why did I lose conciousness...and why did I freak out in the middle of it?"

Before Hotaru could answer, the nurse butted in again. "Oh, yeah! Your alices are really, _really_ powerful...like Special Star kind of powerful. Alices like yours produce strong reactions during the Alice Test. But we knew that, so we gave you a tranquilizer, and that's when you passed out. We usually inject small doses of alice into you Eligibles, because we don't wanna, like, kill you." She giggled more candidly than Mikan thought was appropriate. "Anyway, your alice didn't respond, so we had to keep upping the doses. Eventually, your body couldn't take anymore and the reaction brought on a panic attack. That was, uh, when you started screaming. Then we sedated you again and...here you are!"

Mikan had to focus on stilling all her muscles so she wouldn't cringe. "Special Star?"

"Don't worry about that. You'll learn when we get to the Academy," Hotaru interjected.

Mikan nodded and lay back on her makeshift bed to take a nap; she wasn't keen on learning any other new things, anyway.

Mikan looked up at Narumi L. Anjou and was still just as taken aback as she had been five minutes ago. This man looked for all the world like a she. He had shoulder length, wavy hair like soft strands of gold, yet his eyelashes were dark and longer than hers were. His eyes were large, dewy, and like the violet, satin scarf he had wrapped around his neck, no Adam's apple in sight. Mikan definitely felt a sort of womanly charm oozing out of him, yet she scooted toward him across the bench they were sitting on. She was horrified when she felt the urge to kiss him—kiss the living daylights out of him and pull that satin scarf right off of his neck—

"Narumi, what's your alice?" she gushed out quickly, before she lost control and pounced on him.

He turned his head toward her and flashed a sultry smile. "Pheromone," he replied easily, wiggling his eyebrows. Mikan scowled, amping up her Nullification alice, and immediately felt the effects of his pheromones vanish.

"That is _so _gross." Mikan wriggled around on the bench.

"Well I can't help it, can I?" She didn't return his smile. "My bad, Mikan dear," Narumi quickly amended. "I was just testing your control over your Nullification alice, okay? It'll never happen again."

"As if I'd let you if you tried," Mikan retorted and stood up. Their taxi had arrived, a dark, glossy Lincoln with windows tinted to the black of death. Mikan walked toward it as slowly as she thought socially acceptable.

Narumi scooted into the car beside her, and they sped off onto a highway.

"Why can't I go to the Academy with all the other Eligibles?" Mikan asked, staring at the glittering earrings and necklace that adorned Narumi. She already missed Hotaru and Tsubasa much too much. She hadn't even said goodbye; Narumi had been the one to shake her out of her nap, and then she was being carried out of her makeshift bed by a _very big _man with sunglasses, hairy arms and a six pack made visible by the tightness of his shirt. Mikan didn't scream, only watched, planning an escape in her mind, but she didn't get very far before she was knocked unconscious by a blow to the back of her head. She awoke gasping and lying across Narumi's lap on a park bench. He explained to her that she had been knocked unconscious so that she wouldn't remember her way back to the clearings—so she wouldn't remember her way back to Hotaru and Tsubasa.

"I'm not sure, Mikan dear," Narumi replied almost sadly, twisting a ring around his finger. "I take orders from someone, too. Someone I don't really like."

Mikan promptly shut her mouth. Though she had been complaining since she had woken up, she realized that she liked Narumi.

Mikan was silent all through the car ride, and just as she was about to nod off, Narumi shouted.

"We're _here_!" he sang gleefully, pointing out the tinted window.

Mikan watched as a pair of huge iron gates slowly grated open, leaving the entrance wide enough for only a single car to pass through and immediately revealing a wide expanse of property. The place was enormous, and despite her feeling of apprehension, Mikan was delighted to see kids her age buzzing about as they would at her old school. No weapons or training clothes in sight. Maybe she would be learning like normal here...if not for the fact that there were kids picking up dancingflowers and boys who were floating in the air andeven producing bubbles from one kid's belly button. She couldn't tear her eyes from the scene.

"Why are they—"

"Alices are used freely here. Everyone is trained, so it's completely safe. No alice-use in class, though," Narumi finished in an all-serious teacher tone. Mikan smiled and exited the car when it stopped twenty feet shy of the gates.

The buildings of the Alice Academy campus loomed high over treetops, menacing yet somehow inviting. The letter "A" placed in the center of a massive, gold star was branded above the doors of what Mikan assumed was the main building. Leaving Narumi in her wake, she skipped her way toward it and through the oak doors painted white.

She marveled at the high ceilings inside, at the white, textured walls and the gold detailing that seemed to be added anywhere possible—the doorknobs, the curtain rods, the power outlets. Narumi caught up to her and pulled her inside a waiting room. He knocked on a huge, wooden double-door, and when he heard a "Come in!" he waved Mikan inside as well.

"She's here, sir," Narumi said much less cheerfully than how he spoke with Mikan. A man seated at a long, mahogany desk hummed his acknowledgement, and after a pause, he turned around, and Mikan couldn't help but let a breath of appreciation escape her mouth. He was an extremely handsome man. He had a mixture of blonde and light brown hair that gave him a natural, friendly aura, and his eyes were a charming grey that looked to be of molten lava. And he was young, the just out of college kind of young.

"Please take a seat, Miss Sakura," he said kindly, gesturing to the chair across from him after shaking her small hand. His voice sounded like rolling thunder, deep and distinctly male, and a shiver ran down her spine at the familiarity of it. Though for the life of her, Mikan couldn't place where she'd heard it before.

She sat down obediently while Narumi stood resting his hands on the armrests of her chair. The man behind the desk smiled gently.

"How are you, Miss Sakura?" he asked.

Frowning, she bit her lip to stop herself from making a rude remark. She rearranged her thoughts.

"I'm confused, a little unhappy, apprehensive and feeling sick." She nodded to herself and looked up expectantly at the man, who frowned and clasped his hands together on his desk. He didn't say anything, though, so Mikan asked the first thing on her mind.

"For starters, who are you?"

"Ah!" The man's eyes lit up with epiphany. "I haven't introduced myself! Miss Sakura, I'm Alice Academy's high school principal, or Headmaster, Mister Yukihira." Mikan decided right then that his name was Principal Yukihira. "I hope to work closely with you to better the future of our alices—and I mean that sincerely."

Mikan lifted both brows in surprise. "Uh...future...right…" She quickly recovered. "Secondly, why aren't I attending the Academy with everyone else? Is it because I didn't complete the Alice Test?"

Principal Yukihira chuckled lightly to himself. "Not at all. Miss Sakura, we already know what your alices are. Quite remarkable actually, your alices. It's amazing how you inherited both your mother's and father's alices. You're formidable. I am sorry about what happened during your Alice Test, though. Are you okay?" Mikan nodded. "Anyway, you won't be attending the Academy for a couple of years because you're a Multialice. You need more training."

Mikan immediately perked up. "I've had plenty of training! I did extra training on the weekends, too, just to _avoid_ this. My trainer said I'd have no problems—I'm nullifying Narumi right now!" she shouted, red-faced and trembling. She didn't want to be separated from Hotaru.

Principal Yukihira was calm. "So your Nullification alice is in good shape, but how many alices have you copied in your lifetime?"

Mikan was silent. Principal Yukihira scooted back further into his seat and rested his hands on his lap.

"That's not fair," Mikan whispered with her head down and fists clenched. She hated her SCI alice right now more than ever.

"I'm sorry," Principal Yukihira replied, sounding genuinely apologetic. His phone rang in his pocket, and he left the room as he answered it.

As Principal Yukihira talked in hushed tones outside of his office, Narumi explained to Mikan how her training would go.

"A mountain," Mikan deadpanned. She stared disbelievingly at Narumi and couldn't help the dry laugh that echoed from her lips. "You…want me to train on a mountain…by myself, like a monk?"

Just then, Principal Yukihira walked in with his lips pressed together and the lines around his eyes deepening with his exhausted sigh. "We're taking necessary precautions, Miss Sakura. Your time on the mountain depends solely on how determined you are to finish your studies. We just have to make certain that you have all of your Alices under control." Principal Yukihira dropped himself into his chair, looking three times as tired as he had before he left the room. He folded his hands in his lap, peering at Mikan with an indescribable expression on his face. Mikan felt like a spoiled brat.

"Fine," she said soberly. Narumi placed a hand on her shoulder.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled once more, and Natsume sucked in his breath. He'd just come back from his mission, tired and weary, and that bastard Persona had the nerve to approach him again, he thought.

Quickly getting to his feet, Natsume opened his bedroom window and leapt easily onto a branch of a tree. He stilled his movements, his Fire alice pumping in his veins to keep his muscles warm and elastic. Natsume's eyes blazed with annoyance when the figure of a girl about his age stepped into a patch of moonlight.

His eye twitched upon hearing her speak.

"This is it, Mikan. Quit sulking," she scolded herself as she plopped down at the base of the tree Natsume was crouched in. "You knew you were going to be an agent. This is just a part of the package." Then she shook her head as if to say: _Seriously? Now you're talking to yourself?_

Natsume rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the terrible itch that came from the girl's voice. He couldn't stand girls and their glibness, and he definitely didn't want one outside of his bedroom window. Relaxing his muscles, Natsume squeezed the upper branch he'd been holding onto before falling toward the ground, feeling a rush of air fly through his hair.

The girl at the base of the tree screamed and jumped off the ground. Natsume quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Shut _up_ already and get lost before something unfortunate happens," he snarled, enjoying the look of fright in the girl's eyes. He quickly took his hand away from her lips when he felt the girl's teeth chomp into it. He pushed her roughly away from him and she toppled to the ground.

The girl's large, green eyes darted to and fro, and Natsume couldn't help but scoff at her. As quickly as it had come, the fear in the girl's eyes flashed to anger, and she stepped forward boldly.

"Well, _sorry_," she hissed. "If you weren't such a creep to be jumping from _trees_ next to people, I wouldn't have screamed like that! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Natsume narrowed his eyes. "Did you miss the part where I told you to get lost?" he drawled.

She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Are you looking for a fight? You're seriously pissing me off." Natsume couldn't reply, as he was trying to fight the urge to burn this girl's hair off.

"I've got bigger problems than you to deal with," Mikan continued, feeling tired. "Go to bed, bro. It's late."

If only she knew, he thought, what things he did after nightfall. He glared at her, daring her to say one more word. Mikan flinched and silently walked off into the forest.

The fire within him still roaring with anger, Natsume fixed his gaze on her retreating figure. That girl, she could only be new. She didn't know who she'd just fucked with. He needed to get her name. Tomorrow.

He'd hunt her down tomorrow at school.

The girl stopped in her tracks and turned her head when she heard Natsume's footsteps and the crunching of leaves.

"What's your name?" Natsume asked, though it sounded like more of a statement. Mikan looked startled to hear his request.

"My name?" she repeated dumbly, crossing her arms with suspicion. "Why?"

He didn't answer, only stared at her coolly. Shifting under his intense scrutiny like he knew she would, the girl turned her head away and closed her eyes, her breath coming out to create wisps of grey in the cold night air.

"I expect yours in return," she commented lightly, turning to fix her eyes on him.

Natsume shifted uneasily and mentally shrugged. She'd find out tomorrow morning, or rather, later in the morning anyway.

"Natsume," he said casually, clenching his fists when the girl smiled victoriously.

With a cheerful grin on her face, she chirped, "Mikan! Nice to meet you, I guess." And with a lingering giggle, Mikan was gone.


End file.
